Wanted
by ponyperson
Summary: Eliot was wanted in several countries. What if one of them got him? Eliot whump.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Wanted

Summary: Eliot was wanted in several countries. What if one of them got him? Eliot whump.

Rating: T, for violence and some cursing. Possible some implied non-con, but nothing graphic.

Author's Note: As always, I'm not a doctor and don't play one on TV, so all medical mistakes are mine. Also, this is unbeta'ed, so I guess all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: The Leverage team isn't mine (boohoo). I own nothing, except a little belly button lint.

* * *

Chapter 1

"Sterling, you bastard!" Nate yelled, knowing that Sterling would have taken Eliot's ear piece for his own use, "I thought we had a deal!"

"That was then, this is now," Sterling's voice in Nate's ear confirmed his belief, "and now I've been given a great opportunity to make a whole lot of money."

"By condemning a good man to torture!?"

Nate heard laughter in his ear, "Listen to yourself! Good man?! You were once offered fifty thousand dollars to try to capture this so called "good man". I don't think even he knows how many people he's killed. And you want to call him a good man?"

"The world made him who he is, and he's not mean or cruel. He has morals and ethics, something which you obviously do not." Nate responded, scared for his teammate.

"Well, as much as I'd love to continue this enlightening conversation, your friend Mr. Spencer and I have a date with an unnamed prison, and I have a bucketful of cash to pocket from that."

Nate looked out the window of the 10 story building he and the rest of the team were currently trapped in. He knew that given time Parker would be able to get out and would be able to free the rest of the team. But he needed that time to be now, and time had run out. As he looked out the window he could see Sterling and another man dragging Eliot between them. Eliot's head was down, his long hair dragging about his shoulders and his feet barely moving in an effort to keep himself from being completely dragged along the ground by his captors. Nate had seen the tranquilizer darts in Sterling's possession - Hardison was working thru the effects of one right now - and he was sure Eliot was suffering thru being tranquilized as well. Sterling had planned the trap well, setting up a con to nab a man who specialized in cons. Right now Nate needed Eliot's brawn - which Sterling had, and failing that, Hardison's computer genius to track Sterling, which would have to wait until Hardison woke up from his drug forced nap. Nate knew it would be hours before that would happen, and Sterling and Eliot would be far ahead on their trip to who knows where and hellish torment for Eliot. Nate watched helplessly as Eliot was dumped unresistingly into the back of a blue van and watched the van leave the building complex they were trapped in.

It took Parker twenty minutes to break free of the building, and considering that the doors, windows and air vents had been bolted and/or welded shut, it wasn't much time at all. But it was enough time for Sterling to get away with their drugged hitter. She was finally able to get a door open that led to an unblocked stairwell, and Nate and Sophie were able to drag Hardison out of the room and down the stairs to the SUV that was their transportation.

Two hours later and back at their offices Hardison finally regained consciousness. Nate paced worriedly, and Sophie literally wrung her hands while Hardison worked his computer magic to try to find Sterling's route with Eliot.

"IYS has only one international flight scheduled, which goes from Boston to Asia - Laos. And it appears to have been scheduled within the past few hours."

"Then that's got to be the one," Nate said, "Sterling wouldn't risk holding onto Eliot any longer than he has to. One mistake in the sedative dosage and Eliot wakes up enough he'll be more dangerous than anything Sterling could imagine. No, he'll want Eliot out of his hands as soon as possible, and there are several countries in that area that have bounties out on Eliot's head. Hardison, where is that flight leaving from?"

Hardison sat back from the computer, "It leaves from a private terminal at LaGuardia in two hours. We have just enough time to make it if we leave now."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Sophie cried, "Let's go." She leapt up from where she was sitting, dragging Parker out of her seat with her. Nate and Hardison needed no further encouragement, and Hardison shut his laptop to take it with him before following the other three out the door.

Hardison had fake credentials ready by the time they arrived at LaGuardia, and within minutes they were on the air pad racing to the plane. They pulled up short just outside the hangar. It was quiet and empty, showing no signs that the plane sitting in there was in use, or was going to be in use in the near future. "Hardison, how long till they are scheduled to leave?" Nate asked.

"That's just it," Hardison replied, "We got here with only minutes to spare. This plane should be on the runway by now, and be fueled up ready to go, not collecting cobwebs in the hangar."

"Well then figure out where they are now!" Nate yelled, grabbing a wrench that was sitting on a barrel and threw it across the deck, "Sterling!"

"Nate!" Sophie cried, reaching over to grab his arm, "Nate, we need you calm right now, I need you to think!" Sophie pleaded with him.

"You don't get it." Nate said, tears in his eyes, "Eliot has bounties on his head in several countries, any of which would do his trial and sentencing in a five minute fake trial, and throw him into a prison where he'll be brutalized and tormented until either we get him out or he dies." Nate closed a hand around Sophie's forearm, squeezing tightly for a moment before turning away from her.

"This is bad, very bad," Parker said, "We have to find him."

"I'm working on it," Hardison replied.

"Work faster." Parker replied.

Hardison threw her a look, "On it…and got it!" he paused, holding his hands over the terminal, "Oh guys, this is bad."

Nate came up behind him, "What have you found out? Where are they?"

"Oh this is bad, very bad."

"Hardison, spit it out! What have you found?!"

"Oh man," Hardison wiped a hand across his brow, "I hacked further into IYS's files. Two weeks ago IYS booked a private flight that was scheduled to leave today from Boston to DFW in Texas, and from there to Yangon in Burma. I didn't even notice it earlier because it was scheduled several weeks ago and was going to Dallas, Texas. I didn't look further to see that it was going somewhere else."

"All right, now that we know how he's planning on getting there, when does he leave?"

"That's just it," Hardison's voice had a noticeable tremor in it, "They left Dallas over an hour ago. They're already over the Atlantic."

Nate staggered a step backwards, coming up against a crate and leaning heavily against it, "We're too late."

Sophie put a hand up against her mouth, biting down on a knuckle, tears filling up her eyes. She reached a hand over to Nate, who grabbed it and pulled her against him, cradling her against his chest while burying his face in her hair.

"No," Parker said, "We can't just give up. I can get in and out of anywhere. I stole the Hope Diamond, the most closely guarded object in the world. I think I can steal a person out of a prison. It can't be any harder."

Hardison gave a short bark of laughter, "You're crazy girl. You want to break INTO a prison, and then break someone out? I don't think so."

"No," Nate said, straightening up, squeezing Sophie's hand, "She's right. We can't just give up on him. We may not get there in time to keep him from getting in, but we don't have to let him stay in for long."

"You got a plan?" Hardison asked.

"Not yet, aside from you getting us there as fast as you can."

"On it boss."

* * *

Twenty six hours later Sterling and the other security members of IYS were getting ready to land in Myanmar and hand Eliot Spencer over to the Burmese security forces. Eliot's legs were cuffed together, and his hands were chained to each other, to his legs, and to the chair. An iron collar was around his neck, an iron rod attached to it and hooked into the wall, preventing him from moving any part of his body by more than a few inches. Not that he wanted to. His face was bruised and swollen, and he was nursing several broken ribs and a sprained ankle that was swelling inside the leg irons. Myanmar wanted him alive, but they didn't specify how healthy he had to be, and it appeared that IYS and Sterling had taken advantage of that clause, having amused themselves at his expense several times on their long flight. Blood dribbled steadily from his nose and his left eye was nearly swollen shut. He wiggled his jaw experimentally, bruised, but not broken. Thank heavens for small favors he thought to himself, he could still use it to spit in Sterling's face when he got the chance.

The plane landed smoothly, and when it rolled to a stop two of Sterling's security forces came up behind him and hooked another iron bar into the back of the collar around his neck and pulled his head up and backwards. Another two men undid the chains that tied him to the chair and unhooked the other iron rod from the plane wall. The men who had a hold of the rods immediately pulled him up by the neck, and then pushed him forward. Because of the chains that tied his arms and legs together, Eliot lost his balance from the rough handling and fell forward. Unable to use his limbs to catch himself he lost his balance and found himself being hung by his neck. He gasped for air as he found himself being strangled, when suddenly the pressure on his neck loosened and he fell forward onto his face, struggling to get air into his battered body. The security forces gave him a moments reprieve before lifting him up by his neck. He struggled to his feet, and once he regained his balance, was pushed forward to the front section of the plane where the airplane door had been opened and a set of stairs rolled forward. A team of heavily armed and well muscled military men were waiting at the bottom of the steps, as well as a more conventionally dressed man with a briefcase

Sterling went down the stairs first and met with the unarmed man. After a brief discussion the briefcase was opened and Sterling smiled at the sight that greeted him. He waved to his men on the plane, and they peremptorily pushed Eliot down the stairs, alternating between pushing him forward and holding him back and up by the iron bars connected to his neck. At the bottom of the stairs Sterling nodded and control of the iron rods were given to the military men. Sterling and the other man shook hands, and then Sterling waved his people back onto the plane and followed them up. It had taken a matter of minutes, and in that time Eliot Spencer found himself being controlled by the Burmese government and on his way into a prison, and Sterling found himself in possession of five hundred thousand dollars in cash.

The unarmed man turned to the military crew who were holding onto Eliot, "You needn't be as gentle as Mr. Sterling was. Just get him to the prison alive, that's all I care about."

The military men laughed, and the two men holding onto the bars that were tied into Eliot's neck collar stepped in front of him and pulled him roughly forward by the neck. The leg irons prevented him from stepping forward far enough to prevent from being pulled off balance, and he fell to his knees. The two men didn't pause, and dragged him along the ground by his neck. The collar was wide enough to keep from strangling him immediately or snapping his neck, but that didn't make it hurt any less, and Eliot grunted, and struggled to get his feet under him enough to give him some support. He was able to make it to his knees, and found himself scrabbling along on his knees as the men dragged him towards the waiting military Humvee. Once at the vehicle he was thrown unceremoniously inside where he landed hard on his already broken ribs. Before he could get his hands underneath him to push himself up one of the men took the butt of his M-4 and slammed it into his left temple, knocking him unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Wanted

Summary: Eliot was wanted in several countries. What if one of them got him? Eliot whump.

Rating: T, for violence and some cursing. Possible some implied non-con, but nothing graphic.

Author's Note: As always, I'm not a doctor and don't play one on TV, so all medical mistakes are mine. Also, this is unbeta'ed, so I guess all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: The Leverage team isn't mine (boohoo). I own nothing, except a little belly button lint.

Other Authors Notes: Thanks for the reviews! The whumpfest is not over - it has hardly begun! (*evil laugh*). This is just a short chapter so the whump fest doesnt pause too long. The story is written, and updates should happen every 4-5 days.

By Hardison's calculations their plane would land approximately 20 hours after Sterling's plane landed. Nate knew that in that time it was most likely that Eliot would already be in a prison by the time they landed. He wished he'd given into a brief urge several months ago to buy a plane and put a pilot on retainer; they would have been off the ground and enroute hours earlier. The twenty hour delay was caused by Hardison having to find them a commercial flight to Myanmar, and then bumping several passengers off the booked plane. He felt bad about doing that, and under normal circumstances would have arranged for them to be on another flight. But he didn't have time for that, and as soon as he scheduled the flight he was onto his next project - trying to figure out where Eliot would be taken.

"There's a half a million dollar bounty on Eliot's head." Hardison said after completing his research, "Seems like he was involved in some rebellion years ago, and one of the military leader's sons were killed. Eliot managed to get out of the country - more or less in one piece - and a bounty was placed on his head. I guess the military worked at it pretty hard for the first year or so, but with all the upheaval this country has gone thru it finally got pushed to the backburner. But the bounty was left active, and I guess Sterling made plans to cash in on it."

"We've made good plans to keep ourselves safe from local government authorities, but I think we've done ourselves a disservice forgetting about warrants other countries have put out on some of us." Nate said at the end of Hardison's speech.

"I've got lots!" Parker said brightly, "Sometimes when I'm bored I go to those countries and play tag with the government. They've never caught me."

Sophie rolled her eyes at her female teammate. She had a bounty on her head in several countries too, and had even gone to those countries to do a job, but she didn't go there with the intent to see if they could catch her. Parker really was insane.

"Nate," Parker said, "You don't have any. Don't you want to fit in?"

Nate gave a half smile. He really wasn't in the mood for laughter right now, but had to admit Parker's off beat sense of humour took some of the sting out of the predicament they were in, "Maybe some other day."

"Okay, cool. I'll be glad to help."

Hardison spoke up again, "There's no new information on Eliot in the system just yet. There probably won't be until we get to Burma. By then I should hopefully be able to hack into the government server and see where they are holding Eliot. So until then…" he trailed off.

"Until then we rest up." Nate finished for him.

* * *

While Nate and the rest of the team were on the plane to Burma, Eliot was finding himself dragged uncaringly into a Myanmar prison. His vision was too hazy to see what was written on the signs leading into the prison, so that when he was finally pulled out of the back of the military vehicle he had no idea what prison he was in. He staggered to his feet, and immediately fell back to the ground when one of the prison guards took the rifle butt and slammed it into his right leg. He heard a sickening crack as he fell to the ground and grasped at his leg in pain, crying out when he was unable to bite back the sound of pain that burst thru his lips.

Another well dressed man stepped forward and sneered where Eliot writhed on the ground, "We don't leave chains on our prisoners all the time, that would be cruel," he laughed, "But I don't want you thinking that you could try to escape or try to take out a few of my guards. I am the warden of this prison, and everything that happens to you - either good or bad - is on my say so. I can make your time here relatively pleasant, or absolute hell. What do you have to say to that, Mr, Spencer?"

Eliot was only half concentrating on the man's words, trying also to control his breathing and the pain that was bursting thru his freshly broken leg, as well as the pain that had renewed itself from the other injuries that he had received in the past day and a half. He looked up at the warden, half aware that the man had asked him a question. He knew he should keep his mouth shut, knew that he was better off not saying anything, but his defenses were down, worn away by drugs and pain, and he was operating on impulses now, "Fuck you." he spat at the man.

The warden laughed, "I'm not surprised you feel that way. I was informed that you were quite stubborn. My men will enjoy breaking you."

"You'll never break me," Eliot growled from where he lay on the ground.

The warden didn't respond to Eliot's statement, but Eliot saw him nod to one of the men, "Let's break something to show him how wrong his words are. His arm," the warden stated, "I think the left one will do nicely."

The man smiled cruelly and stepped forward, taking a nightstick from his duty belt. Another man grabbed the iron bars that were still attached to Eliot's neck collar and pulled the hitter upward. The man with the nightstick took a solid swing and the sound of breaking bone in Eliot's upper arm was drowned out only by the cry of pain that was torn from his throat. He slumped forward, only to find himself dragged backwards by his neck. The warden and his men laughed.

"So you won't be broken, huh?" the warden sneered, "We'll see how long you can hold onto that thought. Put him in cell 89. That will put him in Marhkra's tank. You can take the chains off when you get there."

The prison guards laughed, and grabbing Eliot by the bars and chains that were wrapped around him, dragged him to the cell block. They unchained him when they got to the cell, and Eliot lay there unresistingly, too tired and in too much pain to take advantage of the situation when he was finally free. He was thrown into the cell, where he landed on the concrete floor, and he lay there in an unmoving heap, barely conscious, while they laughed and closed the heavy steel doors shut behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Wanted

Summary: Eliot was wanted in several countries. What if one of them got him? Eliot whump.

Rating: T, for violence and some cursing. Possible some implied non-con, but nothing graphic.

Author's Note: As always, I'm not a doctor and don't play one on TV, so all medical mistakes are mine. Also, this is unbeta'ed, so I guess all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: The Leverage team isn't mine (boohoo). I own nothing, except a little belly button lint.

Other's Authors Notes: Thanks for the reviews and to everyone that has put t his story on story alert! You guys are great!

As confident as Hardison was in his computer skills, he found himself thwarted in his attempts to find out what prison Eliot was being held in. "There is nothing in their government files noting what prison he's been sent to. Heck, there isn't even any mention that he's been caught. The only thing I can even find that remotely resembles his capture is a five hundred thousand dollar withdrawal from one of the Myanmar governmental accounts. It doesn't even say why, or to who."

"So how do we know he's even in this country?" Parker asked.

Nate looked at her exasperatedly, "We can't think that right now. Hardison, you didn't find any other IYS flights going anywhere else out of the country at that time, right?"

"No, just the fake one to Laos from LaGuardia, and the one from Dallas. We know Eliot was on that flight because the security cameras showed him getting on the plane. I doubt Sterling would have landed in Burma just to refuel and taken Eliot anywhere else. Besides, Burma had the highest bounty on him, five hundred thousand, and that's what was taken out of the governmental account at the same time that Eliot was scheduled to have arrived."

"Oh." Parker said simply, "So where is he?"

"We're just going to have to find him a different way," Sophie said.

"We need to be careful. We can't afford for any of us to get caught." Nate said, "Hardison, how many prisons are there in Myanmar?"

"I don't know. That will take me a bit."

"Well, get on it, and then see if you can hack into their files, maybe it will show a new prisoner in the system at about the same time Eliot would have gotten into the country."

"Good idea," Sophie said.

"I'm on it boss man." Hardison replied.

* * *

Eliot limped slowly out of his cell. For most of the day he was left alone in an 8x6 ft cell. Meals came sporadically - at best once a day, and he had learned early on to eat, no matter how badly he felt, whenever food was provided. He'd been in the prison for two weeks, and sported several new lacerations, a few more broken ribs, and several broken fingers. A part of him hoped that the team would be able to find him and get him out of this place, but most of him hoped that they forgot about him and stayed away from here. He'd realized that he cared about them too much to want to take the chance that one of them would get recognized for having a bounty on their head and be caught and taken to a prison similar to one that he was in. He hoped they'd find another hitter to fill his place.

Eliot took what little food was provided to him and found an opening against a wall where he slid down the wall and ate his meal in tired silence. He kept his head down, ignoring what might be going on around him. Some days were quiet, but other days the tank bully, Marhkra, would take it into his head to terrorize someone, stealing their food and causing them pain. The guards watched impassively while this happened. No one got out of a Myanmar prison alive, and most of the time they didn't care when that death happened. Pretty much anyone in Marhkra's tank was fair game for the bully.

Eliot had been on the receiving end of the bully's anger in the first few days. He'd stood up to the bully, and in healthier times could have easily taken the man out in a few seconds. But Marhkra was relatively well fed and had been left mostly unscathed by the guards, and Eliot had freshly broken bones. Marhkra had been able to break several more of Eliot's ribs in short order, leaving the hitter gasping for breath, and with an already broken leg and arm, he was left at the mercies of the other man for several minutes before the guards finally spoke up and told the other man to halt the assault. It was a full forty eight hours before Eliot had been able to drag himself out of his cell to get a meager meal.

They were given twenty minutes to eat their meal and then forced back to their cells. Eliot filed out with the rest of the group. Suddenly he found himself pushed roughly face first into a wall. "Spencer," a rough voice whispered in his ear.

"Marhkra," Eliot replied, "what do you want."

"I think I want a bit of you," Marhkra said, his face so close to him that Eliot could smell the hot, fetid breath and he tried to stop himself from gagging. Dental care was lacking in this prison, and Marhkra's mouth suffered from it, with his rotting teeth and stinking breath. Eliot tried to turn his head away, and this made Marhkra angry, "What, you're too good for me? I'll show you what's good."

Eliot felt his face getting shoved farther into the wall, and he shut his eyes as his chest was pushed into the unforgiving concrete wall, causing his broken ribs to grate against each other. He struggled to draw breath, his vision starting to go gray at the pain and lack of oxygen getting into his lungs. He felt a knee come up between his legs, forcing him to spread his feet apart, and he felt something hard push up against his butt. He yelled and used his unbroken arm to push himself away, only to have Marhkra grab him by the hair, pulling his head back, before slamming his face hard against the wall, splitting open his face and causing blood to start to drip from his nose.

"I said I wanted a bit of you," Marhkra's voice whispered leeringly into his ear, "What did you think I meant?" the bully laughed, then Eliot felt a wetness on the side of his face as the big man licked Eliot on the side of the face by his ear.

Inside Eliot cringed, but he kept a strong face on the outside, knowing better than to show the bully any fear, "Go to hell." he ground out roughly.

Marhkra ran a hand down Eliot's waist while he shoved his hips hard into Eliot. Although the uniforms they were provided were thin, and provided little protection into the cold that seeped into their cell, Eliot was glad for even that little bit of thinness now, as he could feel exactly what the bully wanted from him.

"Marhkra!" a guard yelled, "Not here, not now! Another tank is coming in to eat. You can have some fun with him later."

"Later than," Eliot heard the bully whisper into his ear. He felt the man run a hand suggestively over his body and he steeled himself to keep from flinching. He felt the pressure against his head and chest lessened and he was able to push himself away from the wall and breathe a little easier. He took a step backwards away from the wall and turned to go back to his cell when he found himself sliding headfirst across the floor, a result of Marhkra bodily tossing him to the floor. Eliot struggled back to his feet, but the guard that had stopped Marhkra from assaulting him stepped onto the middle of his back, pushing him back to the floor with a grunt.

"You can crawl back to your cell." the guard said.

"Fuck that!" Eliot replied, pushing himself to his knees against the pressure of the foot against his back. He heard, rather than saw, the guard unsheathed his nightstick and he steeled himself for what was to come. He was not disappointed, and controlled the grunt that tried to escape from his lips as the guard hit him on the leg that was already broken. He pulled his head into his chest, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Crawl I said!" the guard yelled, hitting him repeatedly in the back. Another guard joined the attack, and while it only lasted a minute, it felt to Eliot like an hour had passed before the men stopped. He was dizzy and bleeding from new wounds, as the thin shirt he wore did little to protect him from the attack. "You going to crawl back to your cell or do we need to talk about this some more."

Eliot didn't say anything, but kept himself close to the ground as he used his unbroken arm to pull himself forward in a half crawl. He made his way to his cell as best as he could with only one good arm and one good leg, ignoring the taunts and whistles of the other prisoners as he crawled by.

Finally Eliot made it back to his cell. He didn't even try to pull himself onto his bunk, but instead lay on the floor just inside the door, eyes clenched shut against the pain and tears that threatened to overwhelm him. He didn't even hear the guards close his door.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Wanted

Summary: Eliot was wanted in several countries. What if one of them got him? Eliot whump.

Rating: T, for violence and some cursing. Possible some implied non-con, but nothing graphic.

Author's Note: As always, I'm not a doctor and don't play one on TV, so all medical mistakes are mine. Also, this is unbeta'ed, so I guess all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: The Leverage team isn't mine (boohoo). I own nothing, except a little belly button lint.

Other Author's Notes: For those of you who are wondering just how far I will go, yes, there are limits - but its a pretty thin line (*evil gasp*). And yes, eventually Eliot will be rescued! You don't think I'd make him rot in that horrid prison forever do you? This is rated T, but if anyone thinks I need to go to M please let me know.

"Nate!" Hardison yelled excitedly into his cellphone, "I think I know where Eliot is!"

"Finally!" Nate yelled, "Where is he. He's been gone for almost two weeks!"

"In a prison near Tavoy. I found a report of a prisoner transfer from a small airport that happened two weeks ago. It mentions an American prisoner and the closing out of a four year old bounty. It doesn't give any names, but I don't see how it could be anyone else."

"Can you get any details of the prison?"

"Not really. If I get close enough I should be able to hack into their security system if they have any video feeds."

"Okay. Work on that and let me know when you get something."

"What about going in there to try to look in on him? We could bribe them to get one of us for a visit." Sophie asked.

"No," Nate responded firmly, "I could probably give someone a big enough bribe to get in, but I know about these places. Eliot gets a visitor and they'll be all over him later that day. We don't need to give them another reason to beat him. Parker and I will get a layout of the general area and we'll come up with a plan to break him out."

It was a few hours later when Hardison called Nate into his hotel room, "I, uh..I" he started, "I found the video footage from the prison where Eliot is being held."

"Have you seen Eliot?" Nate asked cautiously.

"Um, no. I, um..I'm not really cut out for watching this sort of thing." Hardison said softly, "The stuff I do, I steal money. I mean, I hurt people financially, but hurting people physically - it's sick man. Don't get me wrong, I love Eliot like a brother, and I know he does what he does because he has to, but this is different."

Nate rubbed a hand along the man's back, "Yeah, I get what you mean. I'll take a look at the videos. Show me how to watch them."

* * *

Parker, Sophie and Hardison were waiting anxiously when Nate stormed into their hotel room. Their questions were left unspoken on their lips as they watched Nate go straight to the mini-bar and pour himself a shot of whiskey. He downed it, then poured himself another and downed that one as quickly. As he poured a third shot he leaned forward over the counter, shoving the shot glass and bottle away from him and onto the floor. His shoulders shook, silent tears running down his face. Sophie looked at the others in concern before going to his side, putting an arm around him and drawing him close. He allowed himself to be drawn into her embrace unresistingly. She didn't say anything, but instead held his hand with one hand and pressed her lips onto the top of his head. Nate stayed in her embrace for several seconds, glad for her support, and knowing that the entire team was going to need it and more in the coming days.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and then pushed himself up away from the bar and turned towards the other members of the team. "Parker, we're going to have to rely pretty heavily on you for this one. You up to it?"

"I can handle it."

"Okay, Hardison, do you think you can find some sort of schematic for the prison? We especially want air vents, drainage pipes, that sort of thing. This is going to have to be a straight break out, and we're going to have to do it Parker's way, with stealth. Eliot, uh.." Nate paused, not sure of how much to say, pretty sure that things would be different with Eliot's conditions within a day at most, "Umm, Eliot's not going to be able to do much fighting in this one."

They all knew what that meant.

"Nate," Sophie asked, laying a hand back on Nate's arm, "Nate, how bad is it? Really."

"Bad enough. But if we provide the opening he'll do what needs to be done."

"If I can steal the Hope Diamond - and then put it back - then I can break one man out of a prison. Hardison said there weren't that many guards."

Nate didn't bother to tell her that the reason that there weren't that many guards is because the prisoners were kept in such a wretched state that they were in no condition to make a break for it, "Okay, get with Hardison and find a way in and out that's unlikely to be noticed - probably a sewer or air vent."

"On it." they replied, almost in unison.

* * *

Eliot looked up from his bunk when he heard the doors to the cells click open. "Time for a little fresh air," a guard called out as he walked by, "Everyone out." The guard stopped at his door and looked directly at Eliot, "Up and at 'em Spencer."

Eliot heaved himself slowly to his feet, dreading going outside. He'd only been outside twice in the two weeks he'd been at the prison. Both times he'd seen people get beaten and left for dead. One of them had been gang raped; he'd never seen either of the men again.

He walked carefully out the door, his broken leg sending sharp spikes of pain thru his body with each step. He kept his head down, hoping not to attract to much notice. He managed to stay in the back of the group, relatively unnoticed, until they got outside. The doors closed behind him with a slam and Eliot leaned against the wall to get the best view of anyone who might approach him.

He realized right away that there was no readily defensible position, and he stayed where he was, near the door, his senses on high alert for anyone coming near. He saw Marhkra laughing with several other prisoners at a table. He looked up at the guard towers. The fencing was twenty feet high with razor wire at the top - for prisoners in their condition it would be a nearly impossible feat to climb out of, and as a result, the two guard towers that were visible appeared to be unmanned.

He held his ground when Marhkra left the table and sauntered over to him, "Did you enjoy crawling around on your hands and knees like a bitch dog?" the bully asked him.

"Fuck off," Eliot warned.

"You know, I think I will." Marhkra laughed, then nodded nearly imperceptibly, and suddenly Eliot felt half a dozen or more hands on him. He struck out defensively, hearing a cry of pain in reply. He fought against his attackers, and even with his injuries was a worthy opponent. But four against one was more than Eliot could handle in his injured state, and while several of his opponents had bloody noses and multiple bruises, they eventually got the better of the hitter and dragged him away from the wall.

He was flung to the ground, where he tried to curl up into a ball to protect his already damaged midsection. He heard laughter, then felt a boot slam into his back above his kidneys. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out and showing weakness, which only made the other men laugh. He was kicked several more times while he lay on the ground and when the kicking stopped he was left gasping on the ground, blood in his mouth and trickling out of other numerous wounds on his body. He was picked up by the arms and dragged over to the table. He was too dazed to put up a fight as he was stretched face down across it. He grunted in surprise and pain when a man grabbed his broken fingers and twisted as they pulled his arms forward. He felt a heavy weight lay across his back, "You told me to fuck off. And you're going to help me do just that." he heard a familiar voice say in his ear. Eliot struggled, trying to get out from underneath the heavy weight of the bully. He felt a hand slide under his waistband and his struggles became more desperate, fear lending his body strength that pain had taken away.

Suddenly his pants were pulled down and he felt something hard press up against his legs. "No!" he cried out, fear starting to get the best of him. He tried to pull away from the men that were holding onto his arms and hands, but was thwarted when one of them twisted his fingers even further and he could feel the bones grinding together. Another person landed a hard fist into his broken ribs and the fight left him as he struggled to draw breath into burning lungs. He felt fingers grab bruisingly into his hips and buttocks, and fingernails scrape his inner thighs. He felt something that was hard, hot and wet slip up between his thighs and up to his buttocks. He was too exhausted and confused to be successful in a fight against the assault and he bowed his head in defeat against the intrusion into his body that he knew would happen next.

Suddenly the weight against his back and legs left him and he was thrown to the ground. He lay there, curled up in a huddled ball, fighting back the tears that were threatening to pour down his face. He heard laughter, but was too exhausted to respond and he made no attempt to move from the position that he was in.

He lay there in the hot, humid son, unmoving while he struggled to draw breath in his tortured body. He lost track of time, and it could have been ten minutes or ten hours later that he heard the guards yell, "Alright you scum, pack it up and get back to your cells. The show is over."

Eliot started to sit up, dragging his pants back into position as he did so. He lurched to his feet, fighting against the pain and humiliation. He took his place at the back of the line, head down, hair covering his eyes. He heard the laughter of the guards as he walked by. He hunched his shoulders, his body broken and his spirit in shambles and limped slowly back to his cell.

When the lights finally went out and the prison was bathed in darkness, Eliot didn't bother to try to stop the tears that ran down his face.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Wanted

Summary: Eliot was wanted in several countries. What if one of them got him? Eliot whump.

Rating: T, for violence and some cursing. Possible some implied non-con, but nothing graphic.

Author's Note: As always, I'm not a doctor and don't play one on TV, so all medical mistakes are mine. Also, this is unbeta'ed, so I guess all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: The Leverage team isn't mine (boohoo). I own nothing, except a little belly button lint.

Other Author's Notes: Thanks for all the awesome reviews! For those of you wondering, the whump fest is over and the rescue begins. I can't keep bashing on poor Eliot forever!

Eliot was too battered and sore to leave his cell for their daily meal the next day. He lay on his bunk, barely moving, while broken ribs grated together with each breath and infection began to set into the numerous open wounds on his body. As night fell again he listened to the sound of scratching coming from above his head. It sounded like rats in the ceiling, which didn't surprise him. Suddenly he felt a fine powder began to gently sprinkle onto his head. He closed his eyes, too tired to move to another position. He heard a grating sound from above his head, and then heard a female voice, "Eliot?"

He didn't say anything, too tired to move, and not believing what he was hearing, "Eliot!" the voice whispered again with a stronger sense of urgency. He felt a hand softly touch him on his face.

At that touch he opened his eyes to see the blonde headed thief hanging from the ceiling. "Parker?"

"Who else would be hanging from a ceiling in a prison?"

"Parker, what are you doing here?" he asked in disbelief, his brain not quite processing the situation.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm breaking you out of here. Gosh, you must be brain damaged."

He struggled to sit up, not protesting when Parker grabbed a hold of his arm and helped him to sit up, "I'm not brain damaged," he growled softly, "Just not feeling my best right now."

"Well, I guess that's okay then," she said brightly, "But are you coming?"

"Darling," Eliot stated softly, "I hate to break this to you, but I'm not going to be able to climb out the same way you came in." Adrenalin was starting to kick in and he had regained some energy, but he knew it wouldn't be enough to block out the pain that his body would feel trying to pull himself up by his arms.

Parker pulled a harness out from the ceiling, "I know. Nate saw some video and thought you had a broken arm, so I came prepared. You put this on. I got a small motorized hitch that I set up. It's small and quiet, but pretty strong."

Eliot nodded, saving his breath and energy while he adjusted the harness. It was only a short distance from his bunk to the ceiling, but it would grate against his battered ribs nonetheless. He didn't know how long the escape route would be, but figured it would take all the strength his body had.

Parker disappeared back into the hole in the ceiling and he felt a jerk on the rope that he knew was asking him if he was ready. He replied by giving another pull on the rope, indicating he was as ready as he was ever going to be. He gritted his teeth as the rope began to tighten, pulling against his ribs and the open wounds on his body. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, willing himself to be quiet as the pressure caused more pain to shoot thru his body. The minute or so that it took for him to get to the ceiling pushed him to his limits and he was struggling to keep his breathing under control. He was pale and sweating by the time Parker had helped haul him onto the concrete ceiling. She silently motioned for him to move farther across the ceiling, and as he dragged himself forward, looking around as he did so, realizing that he was in an air vent. The openings into the cell were too small to fit a person thru, but Parker had managed to cut a hole into the ceiling, large enough for Eliot to fit through. She now managed to fit the tiles back into place, and while not as perfect as if it was untouched, hopefully it would escape scrutiny long enough to allow them to get away.

Normally Parker wasn't into "hopefully" and the rushed plan that this had turned into, but the team was desperate, and they knew that Eliot's days were numbered. They didn't have enough time to try to plan a con like they usually would. This was going to be a straight up break out. She'd been in that air vent for twenty four hours, working on cutting a hole in the ceiling large enough for Eliot to fit thru.

Parker slid past Eliot to get ahead of him. She tried not to stare at the open wounds on his face and exposed skin, the swollen and bloody eyes and the obvious broken bones. "It's several hundred yards of crawling until we get to an opening that leads to a sewer. From there we can walk, but it'll be tough going. You up for this?"

"Yeah, sure." Eliot said simply, not sure if he had the strength to make it, but knowing that there wasn't another option.

The blonde headed thief looked at him through appraising eyes. She didn't believe his answer, but didn't know what else to do but lead him through the escape route. She didn't think Eliot had looked this bad the two days earlier when Nate had seen the video feed, or else Nate would most likely have encouraged her to make another plan. Nate had said he was hurt, but implied that he was still strong, but now, now Eliot looked weak, and unlikely to be able to make the distance to the rest of the team.

She started her crawl through the air vent, looking surreptitiously behind her and noticing that Eliot only used one arm and one leg to propel himself behind her. Eliot made no sound of protest as they crawled the several hundred yards to the sewer. Parker had rigged a rope for them to climb down, as it was a two story drop, and while she could easily free climb down the two story drop, Eliot could not.

Eliot fell onto his knees into the dirty water when he got to the bottom of the rope. He was breathing harshly now, fighting against the pain that took his breath away and turned the edges of his vision black. Parker grabbed a hold of his good arm and leaned in close to his ear, "We need to be quiet still. We're still within the prison walls for about a quarter of a mile."

Parker heard Nate's voice in her ear, "Parker, how's he doing?"

She stepped away from Eliot so that she could respond to Nate in private, "Not so good. I think they worked him over pretty good from the video that you saw him in until now. I know you've got the vehicle parked on the road, but I think one of you needs to head this way. We just got to the sewers and he's pretty worn out."

"Alright," Nate responded, "I'll head that way. Hardison and Sophie can stay with the SUV."

She walked back over to Eliot, who didn't appear any better from the two minute break they had just gotten. "We need to go."

Eliot nodded wearily, motioning for her to lead the way. He limped along behind, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and trying to ignore the pain that shot through his body with every step.

It took almost half an hour for the two of them to traverse the quarter of a mile distance through the sewer to where it came out in an unused field. Nate was waiting for them in the bushes and he stepped out to where he could be seen when they appeared out of the sewer. Eliot had begun leaning heavily on Parker's thin form a hundred yards back, and as strong as she was, she was having difficulty supporting the heavier man. He had lost weight during his time in the prison, but still outweighed the lithe blonde thief. Upon realizing the difficulty that Parker was having, Nate ran forward, setting her out of the way and taking her place for Eliot to lean on. He was doubly shocked by how much weight the younger man had lost, and how heavily the man needed to lean on him. He had never known Eliot to need this much help; by the time they'd gone another hundred yards Nate was supporting almost all of Eliot's weight.

Eliot's eyes were squeezed tightly shut against the pain, although no matter how much he tried they couldn't blot out the beads of moisture that leaked through them. His breath came in harsh gasps, and the pain was made worse because with each breath he could feel his ribs shifting and grating inside him. His broken right leg would barely support any weight. He'd fallen to his knees twice upon entering the field, his feet getting tangled in the long pasture grasses. Each time he was unable to contain his exclamation of pain, and both times left him curled up on the ground for a minute or more while he tried to fight back the pain.

Finally Nate caught sight of the SUV on the side of the road, "Hardison, Sophie, we're almost there. Open the back up and put down some blankets. Make up a few ice packs too."

"Nate, how is he?" Sophie asked nervously.

"Just get everything ready Sophie. We're only a few minutes away."

Finally they were at the back of the vehicle, and Eliot didn't even open his eyes as he climbed into the back of the SUV, trusting the others to assist him. He crawled onto his right side, cradling his broken left arm against his battered and busted rubs. He moaned softly when he felt Sophie's hands against his face. "I'm sorry Eliot." she said softly, "Hardison, give me those ice packs."

"Oh man, oh man, this is bad," Hardison kept repeating. He handed Sophie the ice packs, fear creeping into his voice when he saw how badly beaten the hitter was.

"Hardison," Nate said softly, "Let's get going. You know where we need to go. Sophie, see what you can do to make him comfortable. It's going to be at least another day before we can get him to a doctor." Nate heard Eliot's harsh breathing and knew that Eliot was still conscious. He knew that Eliot's condition was even more serious then he realized when Eliot didn't protest getting to a doctor. He'd known Eliot to shake off stab wounds and gun shot wounds while vehemently denying the need for a doctor. For their to not even be the slightest protest told Nate more than anything else could.

"How long until we're out of this country?" Sophie asked as she gently washed Eliot's face with a wet cloth.

"We're not too far from the border, and we've already got paperwork that should get us across. We'll have to make up a story for why Eliot is in this state, but hopefully the prison either won't have noticed his escape, or won't report it. They don't want word getting out about an escape from their prison. It wont be good for publicity for them. Once we're out of the country we'll look for a town with a decent clinic. A healthy donation should ensure the doctor's discretion in treating Eliot."

The grifter continued her gentle cleaning of Eliot's injuries. Eliot was conscious but stayed quiet as she cleaned his wounds. His eyes followed her movements. Every so often Sophie would touch an especially sensitive area, and Eliot's breath would hitch in his throat and Sophie would still her movements to lean forward and whisper soothingly in his ear. Working quietly but swiftly she soon had his visible injuries cleared, and leaned close to him again to ask him about caring for the injuries under his clothing. Eliot didn't respond to her request, instead lay there quietly, staring blankly at the interior of the car.

"Nate?" she said worriedly. "I need to see what other injuries he's got."

Nate looked over at Eliot from the middle seat where he was sitting, "Hardison, how far till the border?"

"Actually, we passed it about fifteen minutes back. I guess they're not all that fanatical here about guarding the border."

"Well that's something in our favor at least. You have any idea where we can find a clinic for Eliot?"

"Well, there's not a whole lot of advertisement in these places, but I'm aiming for what looks like good sized village about three hours from here."

"Okay, good job." Nate turned to Sophie, "Don't make an issue of it right now. Just keep him comfortable. If we don't find a doctor at the village we'll discuss it then."

Sophie nodded her assent, then turned back to the hitter, pulling the blanket farther up around his shoulders. Eliot didn't say anything but she could see that he followed her motion with his eyes and she smiled at him, briefly laying a soft hand against his face before sitting down next to him.

"I think he's exhausted," she said quietly to Nate.

"Probably, and hurting too much to be able to rest." He looked closely at Sophie and saw the minute tremoring in her hands and on her face. He reached across the seat to lay a hand gently on her arm and smiled at her comfortingly, "He'll be fine, don't worry." Sophie nodded mutely, laying her head against his arm as she watched the slight rise and fall of Eliot's chest underneath the blankets.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Wanted

Summary: Eliot was wanted in several countries. What if one of them got him? Eliot whump.

Rating: T, for violence and some cursing. Possible some implied non-con, but nothing graphic.

Author's Note: As always, I'm not a doctor and don't play one on TV, so all medical mistakes are mine. Also, this is unbeta'ed, so I guess all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: The Leverage team isn't mine (boohoo). I own nothing, except a little belly button lint.

Other Author's Notes: Thanks to the wonderful Navillus, who used her wonderful medical knowledge to proofread this and advise me that medically I wasn't TOO far off base! And thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! Your praise makes me feel all warm and gooey inside.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

They'd finally started to get lucky, and while there wasn't a medical clinic at the first village they came to, they were given directions to the second one. At that clinic they found a doctor who seemed to instinctively understand the scenario he was faced with. "I was born near here, but my parents were well off and sent me to medical school in the United States. I came back here and set up a clinic, and I've seen a lot of pretty bad things come across that border." Dr. Sinjh, the head doctor at the clinic told them after he'd briefly examined Eliot.

"I sedated your friend, and am ordering a set of X-rays. We don't have the resources here for a CT scan or an MRI, both of which I'd do if I could, but I'll do the best I can with the resources that we have." the doctor told them, "This is going to take awhile. There's no hotel or anything around here, but you can take turns using one of the extra rooms while you wait. You look pretty exhausted."

Nate extended his right hand forward to thank the doctor, "It's been a tough couple of weeks for everyone. Thanks for the offer. Let us know if you need anything from us."

* * *

There was only one bed in the room, but they managed to take some extra blankets and make themselves as comfortable as possible. Parker was given the bed - she'd been stuck in an air vent for twenty four hours, and of the four of them was the most exhausted. But she woke quickly when Dr. Sinjh knocked on the door and entered the room. She looked at her watch, seeing that she'd slept about four hours.

"Well, I've done as thorough an examination of your friend as I can with the resources that we have." the doctor started, "As I'm sure you are aware he's got a broken left arm and right leg. He's got eight broken ribs, and I've bound his chest to keep them from shifting anymore while they heal. He's also got broken fingers on both hands. Some of the fingers and the arm and leg will need surgery to get them into proper alignment while they heal." Dr. Sinjh took a breath before plunging into the rest of the diagnosis, "There are numerous contusions all over his body. Some of them I was able to stitch up, but the majority were too old to viably hold stitches. Many of those are showing signs of infection or are obviously infected, and I've started him on broad spectrum antibiotics. I found some pretty heavy bruising on his face, back, chest and legs. He's got a concussion, but honestly not as bad as I would expect. Bruising and scratches were evident around his buttocks and inner thighs, but other than that no signs of a sexual assault. The broken leg has me the most worried, as the fractures have exposed bone marrow which could work its way into his bloodstream and cause an embolism, and I would personally suggest you have that fixed before you put him on a plane, as there's no telling what the change in air pressure will do." the doctor finished his description of Eliot's injuries and looked from face to face to while he waited for a response.

None of the rest of the team were able to respond for several seconds. Nate ran a shaking hand across his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Uh, could you give us a few moments please?" he asked quietly.

"Absolutely," the doctor said, "I know it's a lot to take in. Your friend is sedated and probably wouldn't know you are there, but he's in the same room you put him in when you came in if you want to sit with him."

"Thank you," Nate said for the others. Sophie, Hardison and Parker were still too stunned to speak.

Nate waited until the doctor had left the room and closed the door behind him before speaking up, "This is more than any of us expected." he began.

Hardison was the next to speak, "He didn't deserve any of what happened to him."

"No, he didn't," Nate said, "But now we need to think about how to take care of him, not whether or not this should have happened."

"I think we need to discuss the surgeries the doctor mentioned." Sophie said after finally regaining her ability to speak, "We're going to need to heal the physical damage before we can get deal with the emotional trauma. Do we do any of the surgeries here, or wait to find a larger hospital with more resources.?

"I vote that we do all the surgeries now." Parker cut in. The others looked at her quizzically. None of them wanted to spend anymore time in this area then necessary, and here she was recommending several surgeries that would keep them in the area for possibly another month. "Listen, we know what he's like, and he'll withdraw and get difficult as soon as he can. If we wait until we get back to the States, or even to a more populated city on this continent before we do surgery he'll probably disappear on us. We do the surgeries now, while he's sedated and exhausted and can't speak for himself. He'll fuss about it later, but at least we'll have a later."

Nate looked at her thoughtfully, "She's got a good point," he said. He turned to Hardison, "Can you set up some sort of surveillance around here in case someone comes poking around?"

Hardison nodded thoughtfully, "I have some supplies with me, enough to get some video feed set up outside the clinic and another on some of the roads leading into town."

"Alright, let's do it. I'll inform the doctor to prepare for surgery. We should take turns visiting Eliot, and probably have one of us with him at all times when he's not heavily sedated. We'll need to make sure he stays quiet and doesn't struggle until he's a little stronger." Nate advised.

"I'll visit him first," Sophie said.

* * *

Dr. Sinjh performed the surgeries separately from each other, advising that on an otherwise healthy person he would do them all at the same time, but in Eliot's already weakened condition he felt it would be more stress than Eliot should have to handle at the time. Eliot recovered well after each surgery, and Dr. Sinjh was able to perform each of them in short order. When not in surgery one of his teammates was always with him. The doctor left him as sedated as he thought was safe, and Eliot rarely roused enough to be able to talk to his concerned teammates for more than a few words, and even then, he was only marginally lucid. When the surgeries were completed the hitter's fingers were splinted and the bones in his arm and leg had been rebroken, and a rod inserted lengthwise to encourage the bones to heal properly.

When Eliot was finally allowed to awaken fully all the team was in the cramped little room in the clinic. Sophie had a light hold of the hand on his unbroken arm and she was the first to realize that he was starting to wake when she felt his hand twitching in hers, "Eliot," she said urgently, "Eliot, can you open your eyes. Come on Eliot, open your eyes, look at me." she squeezed his hand and with her other hand reached up to move his long hair out of his face.

Eliot heard Sophie's words wash over him as he came back to a pain filled awareness. He grimaced in pain, and his hand tightened spasmodically over Sophie's fingers. He arched his back and his eyes shot open as a wave of pain washed over him. He heard several voices around him. His eyes darted back and forth and he took a deep, shuddering breath before the adrenalin rush that the pain brought on was quickly spent and he slumped back into the pillows, eyes drifting shut again.

He felt a hand lightly slap his face before he could fall asleep and he opened his eyes, "Hey Eliot, good to see you awake." he heard Nate say.

He licked his lips, trying to get some moisture in his mouth. He felt a straw bump against his lips and he pursued his lips around it, sucking eagerly to get some moisture into his dry throat. He was disappointed when the cool water was taken away before he had quenched his thirst. "Not too much," he heard Sophie say, "and slow down or you'll make yourself sick."

"Hardison," Nate said, "go get the doctor and tell him Eliot is awake."

Eliot looked over to see Hardison leave the room. It was only a few moments before Hardison returned, followed by another man that Eliot didn't know. The man stopped a few feet from the bed and introduced himself to Eliot, "Mr. Spencer, I'm Dr. Sinjh. I've been treating you since your friends brought you here three weeks ago."

Eliot looked at the doctor but didn't say anything, "You've had several surgeries to repair a lot of damage that you received. On a scale of one to ten, one being the least and ten being the most, can you tell me how much pain you're in?"

Eliot thought for a moment before replying. He didn't know where he was, and although the rest of his team looked healthy and relatively happy, he didn't feel safe. The doctor's accent and the plainness of the room around him told him that he wasn't in the U.S., and until he was home he didn't want to have his senses dulled by pain medication. "Two and a half." he said, "I'm good."

The doctor raised his eyebrows at his patient's response. He usually got responses that ranged from eight to twenty. Someone who was just waking up from three surgeries in the span of three weeks should be feeling much worse than what this man was telling him.

Nate snorted, "Doc, that's Eliot speak for seven or eight. He just doesn't want to admit it."

The hitter looked at his team leader irritably. He pulled his hand out of Sophie's grasp and reached over to lightly hit the ex-insurance agent on the arm.

Nate looked at the injured man, "I need you to get better fast," he explained, "and you're not going to do it when you're body is tensed up in pain. A couple days of heavier pain medication will help you heal faster than if you go without it."

"Makes me loopy," Eliot replied, "I get weird."

"Man, you're always weird," Hardison interjected.

Nate looked down at the hitter, "How about half a dose. I need you to relax, so that you can heal. We're in Thailand, only a few hundred miles from where we found you, and I know we'd all feel a lot better when we can get back to the states."

"Shoulda left for the U.S. right away." Eliot said, turning away from the man.

Nate was about to respond when the doctor interrupted, "You probably wouldn't have survived the trip." When Eliot turned his head to look the doctor in the eye the man continued, "I'm not just saying this. You had a badly fractured leg, and it was only a matter of time before an fatty tissue from the bone marrow broke loose and caused an embolism. The changes in pressure on the plane, even some mild turbulence, could have caused this to happen at any time. You would have been dead before the plane could have made an emergency landing."

"Okay," Eliot said softly, the argument having died on his lips, "half a dose."

The brief conversation followed by the half a dose of pain medication had left Eliot exhausted and within minutes he was asleep. For the first time in weeks real smiles were present on the faces of his teammate.

"Why don't some of us go get some rest. One of us can stay here to be with him when he wakes." Nate said.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Wanted

Summary: Eliot was wanted in several countries. What if one of them got him? Eliot whump.

Rating: T, for violence and some cursing. Possible some implied non-con, but nothing graphic.

Author's Note: As always, I'm not a doctor and don't play one on TV, so all medical mistakes are mine. Also, this is unbeta'ed, so I guess all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: The Leverage team isn't mine (boohoo). I own nothing, except a little belly button lint.

Other Author's Notes: OK folks, last chapter. Endings are hard for me. I hope it is more or less to everyone's satisfaction.

They left Dr. Sinjh and his small clinic with twenty thousand converted U.S. dollars in thanks for his assistance. The actual bill had been relatively small, what amounted to a few thousand dollars, but the team was so happy that Eliot was up and around, albeit slowly and cautiously, that they had gladly given over the extra amount. At the very least they hoped it would buy the doctor's and other villagers discretion should anyone questioned them. They were given directions to a private airstrip where they could charter a plane to fly them to a large enough airport that could get them home.

Eliot didn't say much in the week following that he woke up. He didn't share his experiences from the prison, and none of his teammates pushed. They all remembered what the doctor had said about his injuries, and knew that the hitter would process the situation on his own for quite awhile before even considered talking to any of his teammates.

That didn't stop them from watching him with worried eyes. They knew he hadn't had a good night's sleep since he'd woken up from his surgeries, and his eyes bore a haunted look. They'd learned from past experiences to never attempt to wake the hitter from a nightmare, so none of them had born the physical brunt of his pain.

Upon their return to Boston they didn't even try to protest when Eliot insisted on going back to his residence. They'd followed Nate's lead, and Nate knew that this wasn't the first time Eliot had been tortured (although he did hope it would be the last), and he doubted that Eliot was going to be sharing his "feelings" with the team. Nate had made it clear to the rest of the team to let Eliot have his space and not to push, or they'd only end up driving the hitter away.

"The best way we can help Eliot's recovery, "Nate had told them, "is to not expect too much from him. He's not going to be sharing his feelings, or going to therapy, or anything like that. He's going to deal with this like he's always dealt with pain - holed up and alone. We'll see how he accepts it with one of us stopping in every day to check on his injuries, but I'd rather give him more space and have him come back to us, then push him away by trying to get too close and never see him again."

* * *

And so it was that Nate found himself at Eliot's front door the next day, hesitantly knocking, unsure what - if any - reception he would get. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he heard the front door open and Eliot was standing there, looking unsurprised. The hitter didn't question his presence, just nodded and stepped back from the door to let Nate in.

"You don't look surprised to see me," Nate said.

"I'm not, figured one of you would be here to check up on me, and figured it would be you first."

Nate didn't question Eliot's intuition, "You going to protest much when I tell you I need to check your wounds? I know you cant reach all of them."

Eliot just grunted and as they entered his living room Nate noticed the first aid supplies already spread out on the table. Nate didn't offer to help as Eliot carefully took off his shirt. The mastermind noticed that it was a button down shirt, but that only a few buttons had been done up, and that Eliot still only used a few fingers on each hand to work the buttons. Nate kept his expression carefully schooled when he saw the livid marks still covering the hitter's chest and back. Time had only partially healed those wounds.

"So, ummm, how are you doing?" Nate began as he sat down behind Eliot and picked up a washcloth that he had dipped into a bowl of warm water. He didn't like the total silence they were in, and wanted something to distract him from the discomfort that he knew he would be causing his teammate.

"Yes to the wound cleaning, no to the feelings." the hitter snarled, glaring at the mastermind.

And so Nate cleaned the wounds on the hitters back in silence, and ignored the quiet grunts and the tensing of the muscles that betrayed Eliot's attempt at stoic silence. When he was finished he wordlessly cleaned up the mess he'd made, throwing the bloody gauze into the trash and rinsing out the washcloths in the sink. He opened up the bottle of aspirin that he found next to the sink and brought it and a glass of water to the hitter that was still sitting on the couch, his hands clenching and unclenching as he fought through the waves of pain. Eliot never even looked up as he was handed the open aspirin bottle. He shook out three, washing it down with the glass of water that Nate handed him.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Nate told Eliot as he let himself out the front door. He didn't look back and he didn't wait for a response, not wanting the hitter to see the moisture that had gathered in his eyes.

* * *

The pattern went on for a few more weeks - Nate at first, then the others - going to Eliot's once a day to clean Eliot's injuries. Only Parker had the guts to do anything more, as after they were done she'd pop in a movie and put her feet up on the coffee table, ignoring his snarl, not caring if it was because of her hanging around, or putting her feet up on his coffee table.

"You can't be alone all the time," she said after the first time he'd asked her to leave, "its not normal."

He'd looked at her incredulously, "You're lecturing me on normal? Do you even know what that is?"

"Maybe, maybe not," she'd said indifferently, "but I know you can't just completely hide away from us. We're still family. I'm not asking you to share your feelings or anything mushy like that, I'm just going to hang out here and watch a movie with you."

He'd looked at her wordlessly after she said that and watched her grab a blanket from where it lay across the back of the couch and snuggle up in it. He didn't bother to protest after that, and just sat down next to her as the movie started and pulled an edge of the blanket across him. She left when the movie was over, not saying much and while the hitter wouldn't admit it, he kind of enjoyed her visits.

A month later Eliot was given clearance to start working out from the private doctor that Nate had hired. The guy hadn't said much about Eliot's injuries, courtesy of the large amount of cash that he'd been given, and he had the resources to take care of all of Eliot's physical needs. Nate knew that Eliot had been working out before the doctor had cleared him, but Nate hadn't said anything, trusting in the hitter to be careful about it. They'd also been told that Eliot's wounds had healed sufficiently to be allowed to finish healing on their own

So Nate planned the first con since Eliot's capture. He'd found them a small, easy one that would not be likely to require the services of a hitter. Eliot made no protest as he played the supporting role of the cab driver. If he spent more time in Hardison's company then was normal they made no comment, and Hardison never thought to mention if he thought it odd that Eliot was paying attention to how he worked the computers. He'd enjoyed showing off his knowledge when Eliot asked him about the internet and how he went about finding certain people. Hardison was maybe too young to understand the ulterior motive, and maybe a little natively thought that Eliot might want a new trade after the beating he'd taken.

* * *

Two days later Nate called a meeting to discuss another con. They didn't worry when Eliot didn't show right away. After two hours they started to call him, and when they didn't receive any answer they went to his home, afraid for what they might find. A quick scan of the outer perimeter showed no sign of forced entry, and all the doors and windows locked. Knocking got no reply, and Parker cautiously picked the lock to let them in. The inside showed no sign of a struggle, and on the counter they found a note addressed to them all.

"Had a few things to take care of. Be back in a few days. Eliot"

"So what do we do?" Sophie asked nervously.

"Do? We don't do anything," Parker said, "He had a few things to take care of, he'll be back."

"But where did he go? Is he strong enough?"

"If he wasn't he wouldn't have gone. You have to trust him." Parker replied.

"Parker is right," Nate interjected, "As much as we want to be watching out for him right now, we need to let him do his own thing. I expected he would do something like this, although maybe not this soon."

Hardison nodded in understanding and turned on Eliot's computer. When it booted up he began to type away, exclaiming when he found out what he'd been looking for. "He went after Sterling!"

"What!?" Sophie cried, "He can't! He's not strong enough."

Nate put a comforting arm around the grifter, "Sterling thinks he's in a prison in Myanmar - or dead. He won't be expecting Eliot to show up."

"But I don't understand why he's doing this alone. We would've helped him." Sophie responded.

"Would you?" Parker said abruptly, "He's not going to have a talk with Sterling. He's going there to kill him. It's what he does - but is it something that you could do? Would you help him with that?"

"No, I guess not, but -"

"I know." Nate said, "There's a part of me that feels the same way. He's not fully healed, but I think he has to do this. He needs to put this behind him, and this is how he does it."

"But what if he's going after the warden? Would he go to that prison on his own?" Sophie contested.

"I don't think he is." Nate replied.

"He's not." Parker interjected.

"Girl, how do you know that?" Hardison looked at her quizzicly.

"He kind of told me that he didnt blame him."

"After everything they did to him? Are you kidding me?" Hardison replied incredulously. He'd seen - and cared for - some of the wounds on Eliot, and knew that if their positions were reversed - and he'd survived - he would certainly have blamed the warden.

"Eliot said that the warden and Markhra were a product of their environment, that they did those things because that was the only way to survive in that environment."

"When did he tell you this?" Sophie asked. She was still worried about Eliot, not believing that he was either physically or emotionally ready to be out on his own.

"We were watching an action movie one day, about some ex con getting revenge on the guys who had hurt him so bad. That's when he said he didnt blame the people at the prison - he hated them, but that revenge on them would be all about the ego and he wasn't in the business of serving his ego."

"But Sterling?" Sophie asked hesitantly.

"He said Sterling wasn't a product of his environment. He said that Sterling MADE his environment. I asked him if he wanted to kill him, but he wouldn't say, just told me to shut up and watch the movie."

Nate nodded, having no reason to disbelieve what Parker had stated. He turned around and led Sophie to the door, "Let's lock this place up and get out of here. Hardison, keep a monitor on the news and let us know when you hear something. I have a feeling this will end up being public, one way or the other."

* * *

A few days later they were all at Nate's apartment when Eliot walked thru the door. They weren't surprised at the hitter's arrival. Hardison had been monitoring various news stations when a regional west coast station advised of Sterling's death. The newsman reported that it appeared that the man had been tortured before being killed, and as of yet the police had no leads. A hasty hack into the police computers by Hardison confirmed those facts. So intent was he on the internet search that he didn't hear the next story from that same news channel, that advised that an anonymous donor had made a five hundred thousand dollar donation to a charity that specialized in treating victims of torture and abuse.

Eliot entered the apartment with a few bags of groceries, acting as if he'd left for a few hours to do some shopping, rather than gone on a trip to torture and murder the man who'd been responsible for his own torture. He smiled amicably and began setting up to make dinner.

"You're late," Nate said, "I've got a job that's been waiting. You ready?"

Eliot looked up from the vegetables that he'd been cutting, "Yes," he said simply, "I am ready."

fin

**Ending Author's Notes: Phew! Made it to the end! What a ride! (*LOL*) I know some of you are thinking I left a few things unresolved, or not resolved to your satisfaction,and i have to admit I did that on purpose. See, I have a sequel planned - in fact, I've even written some of it. Don't know when it will be ready. Guess it depends on how many people want me to continue?**


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